


he's a bad boi rule breaker

by lonereedy



Category: South Park
Genre: "break up", Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Canon Compliant, College/University, Craig rides a bicycle, Creek Week 2020, Day One Prompt: Tattoo/Punk, Fluff, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Soft Boys, Tweek likes punk music and fashion, but it's not finished, ending is a little sad, sort of...you'll see, there may be more - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27208135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonereedy/pseuds/lonereedy
Summary: [ CREEK WEEK 2020 | DAY ONE: TATTOO/PUNK ]When Craig and Tweek temporarily go their separate ways in college, still hopelessly in love with each other, Tweek takes the time to discover a new side of himself. One that, hopefully, Craig will appreciate, too (along with a side serving of unexpected jealousy...)
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41
Collections: Creek Week, sp creek server does creek week 2020





	he's a bad boi rule breaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenolith1245](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenolith1245/gifts).



> It's creek week!!! I'm so excited!!! :D
> 
> Also, I am feeling pretty rough. I started this story this morning and typed it out in one go. It shows, so I'll be honest about it! XD 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone on the discord server (who don't even know about this because I'm so last minute...) You are such wonderful, kind and encouraging people, and I can't wait to discover your creations. An additional thank you to the lovely ambercreek95 for inspiring the title (after 10 minutes of staring blankly at the screen, I couldn't think of anything better XD) and for reminding me about eggplants. (Note to self: do not post things with a fuzzy head!!!)
> 
> This one is dedicated to our server leader xeno, who has gone above and beyond for us all and is a fantastic person who is hugely appreciated. 
> 
> Please do your best to enjoy this garbage.

_“You ready?” Craig asks, nasally voice as stable as ever as he grips Tweek’s hand tightly._

_“I’m rrr ready,” Tweek gives the tanned hand a gentle squeeze._

_They stand motionless in a sea of overwhelmed freshmen, the imposing registration building behind them. It’s as if they haven’t caught up to reality, needing a few more moments of the old normal before they go through with the agreement._

_“We should-” Tweek whispers, bumping Craig with his elbow instead of finishing his sentence._

_“Yeah,” Craig adds after a beat of silence. “So…”_

_One more squeeze._

_“See you around?”_

_“See you around.”_

_Their hands pull apart and the pair go their separate ways._

*~*~

Craig flops onto his bed and exhales slowly. It’s been three weeks. Only three weeks and he’s already off schedule. The free time he’d meticulously planned for had soon been split between class orientation, meeting his dorm mates, picking up his syllabus, memorizing his schedule and getting acquainted with his surroundings.

Ideally, he’d liked to have run into Tweek in the first week, just to make an impression in front of his peers. Instead, his days are filled with classes, book buying, retrieving a wailing Clyde when he gets lost – which is ridiculously often since he’s too busy hitting on girls, walking and talking within the maze of their campus – pounding the sidewalk for cycling club and meeting his neighbors.

His dorm mates are nice enough, but too nosey for Craig’s liking. He’s had to bite his tongue so many times, not wanting to talk about Tweek before they can reunite. After so many years, it’s just so natural to mention the blond even for the most mundane things. Hell, his roommate Grant was showing off his new logo-emblazoned kicks and Craig opened his big mouth and talked about how his boyf- _friend_ had once decorated his own sneakers with a sharpie.

He rolls onto his side and taps at his phone screen. There’s a message from Clyde and an eggplant emoji from Jimmy. He ignores them and slides his callous-topped finger over Tweek’s name. His last text from the blond was a couple of days ago, some garbled nonsense _hrkp_. Craig suspects it was a mistake, one he’s nearly made himself – if slightly more coherent – as he writes and deletes texts he never sends.

_How are you doing? <3_

_Class sucked today :/_

_What are your dorm mates like?_

_I miss you, babe. This was a bad idea._

*~*~

Tweek doodles in his notebook as his professor introduces the new topic. He’s still actively listening; it’s just his hands need to be busy. He doesn’t like how hard chullos are to draw, but it brings him comfort to see little Craigs flipping off his notes or floating in the stars or holding little guinea pigs.

Craig doesn’t even wear them anymore, swapping them out for beanies, or – Tweek’s personal favorite – no hat at all. They’d shopped together for a new closet before starting college, expanding on his NASA t-shirts and black skinny jeans. Craig’s darker skin tone suits a wide range of colors, and Tweek delighted in Craig’s choices of bright band tees and low-rise jeans.

Tweek looks down at the crumpled navy button-up he threw on for class. It’s boring and basic, completely removed from Tweek’s personality, but it’s all he’s ever known. Unlike Craig, whose sense of style has grown and developed, Tweek feels _stuck_. Tweek’s had creative blockages before, where he can’t paint or draw or compose. He’s always overcome them with a fresh, rested mind or Craig’s encouraging words.

_Is a clothing block even a thing?_

In the end, Tweek just bought new underwear – curse the goddamn gnomes – and art supplies. Nothing in the clothes stores they visited spoke to him, to his personality, so instead of wasting his hard-earned money, he decided to just bring his limited closet from home.

Well, except for the t-shirt Craig bought him.

_“Babe, this is perfect for you,” Craig had smiled, holding up a pastel blue tee with Caffeine Queen printed across the chest._

He hasn’t worn it yet. He decided he won’t until they progress with the plan.

They’ve already missed their first week, forgoing a crucial part of Craig’s carefully curated schedule, and his resolve for sticking it out weakens when he curls up alone at night. He misses how Craig would cling to him like a teddy bear, arms hooked around his waist and nose pressed into flaxen tangles.

The first time Craig had latched onto him, he nearly elbowed him the nose in a feeble attempt to struggle out of the hold. It was too tight, too restrictive. He remembers the warm hands that rubbed at his sides. How Craig’s sleep-filled voice cooed, _“Relaaaax, honey,”_ as he pressed soft kisses against his earlobe, the way he knows drives Tweek _crazy_ , and rolled onto his back so Tweek could feel the soothing, rhythmical thud of his heartbeat.

Now his nights are spent tossing and turning, caffeine running through his system even though he’s trying hard to cut back after 9pm. His dreams are always about Craig, about how well his hand fits into his own, how he has the goofiest smile when they are all alone, how he can call Tweek all the pet names in existence without blushing to his ankles – whilst Tweek can only breathlessly respond with _Craig_.

He wonders if they can become like the smart materials he studies, able to change back to their previous state at the blink of an eye. They are so determined not to lose to their surroundings, to the college curse, but it’s difficult. If it wasn’t for all the information his professor has thrown at the class, academic papers and article after article to be memorized before the next week, he’d probably have stalked Craig back to his dorm room and pushed him into bed for a cuddle and some stress relief between the sheets.

Tweek sighs and scribbles some quick notes about external stimulus before doodling little hearts above his latest mini Craig. His eyes are tired, drooping every so often even though he’s determined to stay on top of his classes. It’s one of the reasons they’re doing this. He’ll give 110% if it means they’ll be stronger. Stifling a yawn, he looks back up at the whiteboard, thumb twitching nervously.

It’s hard to sleep without Craig anymore.

*~*~

_“So…you single?”_

_“No, I– um…yes. This week, yes.”_

_“This week? Ha ha, plaaaaayaaaah!”_

_“Shut up, dude. It’s not like that. It’s…complicated.”_

_“Someone you like then?”_

_“More than you know.”_

“Shit, Tucker!” A voice calls out from behind as Craig narrowly avoids sliding into a lamppost.

He hits his breaks, cringes at the screech, and pulls over, heart pounding in his chest.

His legs are like jelly as he dismounts the bike. He’s going to get into accident if he doesn’t clear his head.

“Dude,” his club mate checks him over with a worried expression. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he barks, proud that his voice doesn’t crack. “I’m just gonna take five.”

For a moment, the other guy seems unsure, but then he nods, “Take it easy, man.”

Craig watches him ride off, but his mind is elsewhere. He can imagine the fury and panic behind large, hazel-blue eyes if _he_ was here. The scolding and the shouting about how dangerous it is to lose yourself in your thoughts on the road and almost wipe out.

It’s easy to picture because it’s happened before. Craig, riding the endorphins of their first time together better than his bike, had nearly plunged through Tweak Bro’s front window in his excitement to pick Tweek up for a date.

_“Craig, oh my god, what were you thinking? You’re not even wearing a helmet! You could have gotten brain damage and forgotten all about us. You could have died–”_

_“Dude, I’m fine–"_

_“Don’t dude me, you idiot, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”_

_“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty eyes and how much I’m going to be staring into them tonight.”_

_“Oh, Craig.”_

He takes a swig from his water bottle and checks his watch. Tweek’s still in a biology lecture right now, and it’s ever so tempting to swing by and just look at him. Clyde tells him he’s Tweek-deprived, and Craig was actually quite impressed by his creativity. The guys are still surprised they went along with it at all, and have stuck to their guns. Sure, Craig’s stubborn, and Tweek’s _worse_ , but the pair have been inseparable for so long that no one expected them to last even three weeks apart.

It’s a struggle, but they aren’t going to doom themselves to fail. There’s still plenty of time to follow through with the plan.

He’ll be back in Tweek’s arms before he knows it.

*~*~

The girls sitting in front of Tweek share giggles as they scroll through Instagram photos of some random guys he assumes are in their college. He leans forward a fraction for a peek – hoping he doesn’t spot a familiar face in the photos – but the guys are all pretty _average._

Not even close to Craig, with his barely-visible beauty mark under his right eye, the mole on his neck shaped like a heart – the one he nipped red just to hear Craig keen – his imposing height and stronger-than-they-look noodle arms.

Craig’s beautiful. Much too good-looking for someone as _average_ as Tweek. He closes his eyes to take in Craig’s sculpted face, to see those gold-flecked green eyes filled with mirth as he realizes Tweek’s sneaked out of his bedroom again to see him.

They’ll flop onto Craig’s bed, exchanging cheeky smiles with Stripe between them, hands petting him together, fingers brushing…

Tweek’s so lost in his thoughts that he almost misses the announcement of a group project. He drops his pencil and watches as his classmates pair up.

Todd’s sat a few places away and is beckoning Tweek over until a guy Tweek hasn’t spoken to drags him in the opposite direction. He looks sheepish, but gives in with an apologetic wave which Tweek returns with a nod.

He’s on better terms with the girls, who crowd him with the biggest smiles.

“Tweek, you’re still single, right?” Emily, a girl who sussed out his sexuality in one meeting, chitters excitedly. “This is the perfect chance!”

“ _Gah!?_ ”

Tweek isn’t sure why they are so interested in setting him up with someone – it’s the Asian girls all over again, and how he wishes he could blurt out the truth and tell them about his beloved homosexual Craig – but they’re sweet and supportive, and maybe one of them will agree to be his bio partner if he lets them squee over his love life, so he sighs.

“Perfect chance for what exactly?”

“ _He_ hasn’t got a partner,” Melissa adds, dramatically pointing a manicured finger at a lone figure sat at the back of the room. “ _And_ he’s totally your type!”

Tweek regrets mentioning that he has a thing for taller guys who wear scowls on the daily, and isn’t surprised that the girls remember all these little details.

Still, his curiosity has him looking at the guy. He looks big – not as tall as Craig, few people are – but he’s built and bulky, so he clearly works out by bench-pressing cars or some shit.

Emily tugs at Tweek’s sleeve, “Go talk to him!”

The other girls nod along with her, eyes sparkling as if they’re setting Tweek up with Mr. Right – it’s all so _wrong_ , Tweek knows who has his heart – but it’s six against one, so Tweek takes his loss with grace.

“If he beats me to a pulp, you’re all paying for my funeral,” he deadpans, ignoring the little cheers of success as he works his way towards the guy with the guns.

As he gets closer, Tweek finds himself staring at the guy. Not at his huge frame, beach-blond hair or impressive tats, but at his choice of clothing. He must have looked just a bit too long, because the guy turns on him with an angry scowl.

“What do you want, _fag_?”

Instead of recoiling in fear or horror, Tweek’s face lights up as he recognizes the artists on the pins and badges on big guy’s vest. He admires the chunky boots laced up in neon green and the studded black bracelets wrapped around his wrists.

His heart sings as he can imagine himself in _this_ style, so bold and edgy. The guy’s ears are decorated with spikes and skulls and a lone black dagger, and although Tweek has never considered piercings before, he can’t help but think they suit this guy. He knows how to _wear_ this stuff.

“You deaf?” The blond growls menacingly, and Tweek finally remembers he was here to ask something.

He opens his mouth, intending to ask about partnering up and preparing for rejection so he can run back to the girls.

“I like your vest,” he says instead, “your clothes are the coolest I’ve _ever_ seen, man.”

The guy studies his face as if looking for an insult in there so he can knock his block off, but thankfully he recognizes the sincerity. “It’s punk, of course it’s fucking cool.”

Tweek nods, still in awe. Their professor is giving out handouts, and at this point Tweek’s probably stuck with scary-but-well-dressed guy. “ _It is._ ”

“And our last pair,” they each take their handout from the professor, Tweek fully expecting muscle guy to flip out and tell him to fuck off. Instead he’s greeted with a quirk of a smile.

“Punk, huh? You probably think Dead Kennedys’s our late fucking president.”

Tweek raises an eyebrow, slightly offended that just because he looks _soft_ , he can’t have an eclectic taste in music. “My personal fave’s _Too Drunk to Fuck_. That doesn’t normally stop ‘em though, does it?”

There’s a gruff chuckle – nothing close to the cute noises Craig makes when he laughs – and the guy holds out one hand.

“Trent. Guess we’re stuck as partners.”

Tweek takes it, trying not to think about the girls who are probably watching this and having a heart attack. It feels _wrong_ holding the hand of someone who isn’t Craig. Trent’s hand is calloused and cold. Still, he’s polite as he smiles back.

“Guess so. I’m Tweek.”

He misses the warmth of Craig’s hand.

*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Umm...This is why I'm green, server friends. 
> 
> This isn't finished. I'm tempted to see if I can write more. The biggest question is: should I, ha ha?
> 
> If you got to the end, I am hugely grateful you took the time to read this story. I really, really appreciate it.
> 
> Stay safe and well everyone :)


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